Cancel This Call

    I let the dogs in and quickly put my shoes on. I slip on my coat and grab my keys off the kitchen table. I throw my bag over my shoulders and reach for the door knob when the phone rings.
 
    I stop.

    I turn and walk around the table to the phone. I reach and pick up the phone and hold it in my hand.

    I stop.

   If it's someone from my family I will be on the phone with them for a while and be late for class. If it's a telemarketer than I can hang up and still make it to class. I think about who it might be before setting the phone back in the holder and walking towards the door again deciding its best to just let the machine get it.

   I'm about to open the door when I realize it could be my mother, or father. It could be a family member with an emergency. Perhaps someone got in an accident, perhaps someone died. I wouldn't know. I hesitate at the door until I finally grab the knob and turn.

    I have the door open when the machine picks up. I hear my father's deep voice begin his monologue. "Hello. You've reached the Borings..." he says to the caller. I'm on the first step. I step again and my dad continues his speech asking the caller to leave a message, and assuring the caller that we will get back to them if they leave their number.

    I turn to close the door behind me when I hear the machine kick on and a familiar voice replace my dad's. "Peggy. This is your Aunt Mary from Pennsylvania. It's one o'clock in the afternoon and I just finished eating my lunch. I had..." the voice keeps speaking but I've closed the door. I can still hear the cadence of my Great Aunt Mary's voice through the wooden door.I shake my head and walk away from the stairs.

    Aunt Mary is my 92 year old great aunt on my mothers side. She was my grandmother's sister. Aunt Mary had a twin sister who passed away when I was eleven, her name was Margaret. We help my Aunt Mary out a lot around the house. Normally, my mom and I go out grocery shopping for her, and then help her around the house when we drop the food off. She's a remarkable women, and looking back, the one think I will always remember about her someday are her phone calls.

    They normally start out with, "Peggy. This is your Aunt Mary." Following this she usually tells us the time and what she just finished doing. Sometimes, if we don't pick up the phone, she gets angry and says, "Cancel this call," even though she could have just of easily hung up the phone without leaving a message. She usually tells us about her day in her messages. She tells us what she ate, how she prepared her food, and what she did all day. Sometimes, she calls and tells us about my mom's cousin Billy. Occasionally, she will call and complain about the family. She tells us about what she read in the newspaper. She tells us about the pain she gets in her tailbone. She tells us about her life, because she, well, she doesn't have much else to do.

    We get a kick out of her messages, though sometimes they are ridiculous and pointless. Usually they are pointless. But, she means well, and I think she just needs someone to talk to. If that someone is our answering machine, then so be it. I will always remember the messages on our answering machines left by my Great Aunt Mary.